Matched For Life
by Black Nation
Summary: The night Reno chose to remain a Turk. Sequel to Rats & Ravens: Reno's Story.


**Matched For Life**

I watch the tip of my cigarette simmer to ashes and draw in one last time before I grind it into the ashtray. I swear I can feel my nervous system buzzing like a power grid. Yeah, I hate this job. I know, I know, back in the wet dark alley when I was still turning tricks and Rude was fixing to strangle me I told him I'd become a Turk to replace the Turk I killed. But back then, which really was only a few months ago, I was a stupid kid infatuated with a murderer and a lifestyle I didn't know shit about. Life has a way of fucking over the unwary.

No, I never got to fuck Rude. And no, being a rookie Turk was nothing like a never-ending vacation. Instead of escorting Shinra executives to decadent fuck sessions at the Honeybee Inn I was stuck in sterile white interrogation rooms for days at a time with no sleep, beating confessions out of assorted scumbags for less money than I made spreading my legs. I aged a decade from all the times I pulled the trigger to obey orders and my new apartment with a view felt like a cage because all the white marble and hardwood in the world couldn't make my mind to shut the fuck up at night.

Well, it's Friday and it's late and I don't give a shit anymore because it's my last day in this Shinra hell purgatory. The showgirls are swinging their long legs in the cabaret uptown and right about now I got plenty of cash to buy me an orgasm. I am fucking out of here. I don't even care if Rude keeps his word and breaks my neck for breaching my employment contract with Shinra. A few more days of being a Turk and I'd spare him the trouble by blowing out my own brain.

I crane my neck to see if anybody's watching, but the buzzing Mako light reveals only empty chairs and desks. _Yes, nothing like a clean break from a lousy commitment_. But as soon as I get up to leave I hear my cellphone vibrate. _Rude. _My cock reminds me that I haven't gotten over wanting to fuck him. I'm gonna make scoring with him my last mission.

"I want you…" his deep velvety baritone is seductive but urgent. "… in here…. for another interrogation. VIP client. Make it fast."

* * *

Cell XXX has the entrance of a fortress, and I step inside with an arrogant swagger, like a sexy, cigarette-smoking hero in a cheesy black and white horror flick. The room has the ambiance of a crematorium. Lights are out, except for the Mako glow from the window and an elaborate candle holder by the bed. My VIP client is the fifteen-year-old heir to the Shinra empire, a kid named Rufus with creepy cold eyes and a whore's lips. He sits on a narrow bed, leaning against the wall, and glaring at me with unreadable eyes. His lip is split and bleeding abundantly down his neck and his legs are spread enough for me to catch a glimpse of his inner thighs. My eyes trail to his rich crimson robe, to the luxurious fur-trimmed blanket and soft pillows that didn't belong in the room and were obviously brought for him. I focus on the barrel of a gun Rude is holding to the boy's temple.

"You used to fuck for a living," Rude sneers with his glowing eyes, "this case calls for your expertise. As you can see, daddy already tore him a new one for leaking info to AVALANCH, but we could use a more detailed confession." I shrug, suddenly and unexplainably uneasy.

"Spare me," Rude growls, "junior here is charged with conspiracy to assassinate the President. He is a traitor who gave orders to put down our own guys. The Turks, Reno, your brethren. I want to know who his accomplices are. And there is only one thing his virgin self fears."

I draw in the scented smoke and watch the boy watch me. _Now, this is interesting. _Normal children grow uneasy around dangerous strangers. His spread legs and devious little smile tell me he's used to adult company. Then again, he is not a normal child, he is President Shinra's _property_. Rufus wiggles his toes defiantly and eases on his back, challenging me. And then he flicks his hair – an endearing gesture that betrays his youth and his nervousness. Beneath his twisted sophistication he's still a kid, lonely, unloved, and forced to play dirty adult games. And hell, don't I know that story.

"I'll interrogate him, but I won't fuck with his dignity." My gut twitches at the tone of my own voice. _Fucking coward! _I meant to say something different, and I sure as hell meant to take the little blue-blood bastard for a ride, but at the end my conscience wouldn't let me. An awkward pause ensues, and I smoke the rest of my cigarette watching the rain outside. "No kid fucking deserves that. Fire me if you want, but there's no way-"

"I'm glad you aren't a cruel piece of shit, deep under all that fierceness," Rude says suddenly, replacing his revolver and affectionately resting his enormous hand on Rufus's shoulder. "A Turk gotta have principles. I think he's good to go, boss." Rufus grants Rude a sleepy half-smile and pulls the fur throw over his naked legs.

"This is one degenerate game," I hiss indignantly. "You honestly thought a former child whore would do the same shit to another kid?" I sneer at Rude's self-confident smirk. "Fuck you!"

"Anyway you like," Rude chuckles mysteriously, as he licks his lips beckoning me closer, "partner."

"Partner?"

"Isn't that what you wanted ever since you spied me back in that slum bar? Papers went through this morning and you just passed your character evaluation with flying colors. Now your feisty ass is mine. Forever."

* * *

It's 2 AM and the rusted balcony of the broadcasting tower where we chose to consummate our partnership creaks like a horror flick prop. Rude can be gentle and cruel in one move, like when he puts me in a chokehold harsh enough to strangle and then kisses me so tenderly that my knees grow shaky. His gloved hands grip my thighs as I dig my fingers into the back of his muscular neck, firmly clinging to him as the cold raindrops pour down the sides of my face, around my lips, and into my mouth. From where we stand the view alone can kill. I know I'll live to regret it all, becoming a Turk, fucking Rude, selling my soul to the young Shinra darling. But to hell with it tonight! For a slum rat like me this really is the top of the world.

I let Rude's royal cock stroke my pleasure spots from the inside while my lazy eyes survey the glowing darkness below. Rude's shiny eyes are laughing at me, but he doesn't say a word. As I lean against the ugly railing, suppressing moans, it dawns on me that his arms are the only thing that stands between me and fifty-four stories of empty black air. If he lets go I'm history. Still, as my lower gut begins to spasm in ecstasy and his hot breath quickens on my neck I fear him less and less. His bulk and strength are reassuring. _Yes, partner_. I trust him to never let go.


End file.
